But now, though I am told his royal palace towered here,
And they say here rose its lofty halls,
Only the spring weeds grow luxuriantly
And the spring sun is dimmed with mists.
As I see these ruins of the mighty palace
My heart is heavy with sorrows!
Traveling far, I cross mountains and rivers;
the mountains and rivers are long and are broad.
Waving my whip, I climb gentle slopes;
relaxing the reins, I follow level grasslands.
At evening I rest, and sleep holding my shadow;
at morning I move on, and go bearing my thoughts.
Stopping the reins, I lean on soaring crags;
listening hard, I hear the sad wind’s echoes.
White light falls onto the clear dew;
how bright the full moon shines!
Slapping my pillow, I cannot sleep;
arranging my clothes, alone in lengthy longings…
The bamboo grass
Sighs in its tangled rustling
Deep within the mountains,
But my longing remains untangled
When I have left the one I love.